


Traces Of You

by mdelpin, Oryu404



Series: Fairy Tail Dads AU [15]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, M/M, Magnolia Dad's Club, Post-Break Up, Prompt: Reminisce, Prompt: Written, Song/lyrics inspired, Stingue Week 2019, Suppressed Feelings, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftdadsau, ftlgbtholidays2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21709084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdelpin/pseuds/mdelpin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oryu404/pseuds/Oryu404
Summary: Rogue is dealing with being abandoned by his family and his breakup with Sting, and everything around him reminds him of their separation. When his feelings taint his music by unwittingly showing up in a new song he didn’t even plan on composing, he reaches a breaking point, but before he can rid himself of the visible traces Sting has left, he gets a phone call that puts his resolve to the test.
Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe
Series: Fairy Tail Dads AU [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555675
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17
Collections: Fairy Tail Dads AU, Fairy Tail LGBTales, Home for the Holidays 2019, Stingue Week 2019





	Traces Of You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Home For The Holidays, prompt: Written, and StingueWeek 2019, prompt: Reminisce  
> This story contains lyrics from a song called ‘Time spent Walking through Memories’ and are originally written by Kim Jong-Wan, the amazingly talented lead singer of the Korean band Nell. For anyone who is interested, here is a link to the song that includes the English subtitles: https://youtu.be/FS_WGNOufbg
> 
> Want to talk with us about Fairy Tail, other animes, writing, or our stories? Click on the link to join our discord [The Unholy Trinity](https://discord.gg/HTnthVNZ3V)!

_November 14th, 2013  
_  
No matter how many times Rogue had come home to an empty house, he was still struck by the same feeling of desolation he felt every time he stepped over the threshold. There was no smell of food being cooked in the kitchen, no face turning away from the tv for even a brief second, just to say hello, no pair of shoes in the hallway other than the ones he had just put there himself. The only thing that greeted him was darkness and silence.

He hung up his coat in the hallway closet and flicked on the lights, then unpacked his bag. With a heavy sigh, he walked into the kitchen to rinse out his water bottle in the sink and clean his lunch box so they would be ready to use tomorrow. The house was as good as spotless, no dirty dishes or other personal belongings were lying around as he had kept everything tidy to keep himself distracted. But a spotless house was just another reminder that there wasn’t anyone but him to leave their mess behind.

Either way, he had to move on. Sitting around and feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to do him any good, so from the moment he had said goodbye to Sting at the airport, he had tried to keep himself busy as best as he could. Today wasn’t any different, and after he had taken his textbooks and notepads out of his bag he sat down at the dinner table to do some studying.

But it was too quiet.

Rogue closed the textbook he had been blankly staring at and put it away again, not being able to focus on anything but the lack of sound surrounding him. The other chairs at the table were empty, triggering thoughts about the ones whose presence they used to mark. His father’s coat wasn’t draped over one of them for his mother to complain about as she took it off to put it where it should have been in the first place, Gray wasn’t bent over his homework in his usual seat at the other end of the table, and Sting wasn’t sitting across from him, playing footsie with him while trying to don a mask of feigned innocence.

His own chair scraped across the floor loudly as Rogue rose up to find something else to focus on, but he already knew he’d be confronted with his solitude no matter where he went or what he did.

When he ate, there was only one plate on the table, one glass of water to be filled. When he showered, Sting’s half-empty and forgotten bottle of shampoo was sitting next to his own. When he went to bed he swam in a sea of empty space and unstolen blankets, mapping the irregularities in his ceiling like constellations in the night sky. And when he curled up on the sofa to watch Netflix he was presented with the profiles of his family members who hadn’t been watching anything in a long time, with favorite picks that weren’t all his own and with suggestions to continue watching series he used to binge with someone wrapped around him.

The only thing he had left to throw himself into when he was alone, was art. Both writing and music had always been his escape from reality, letting him dissolve into worlds of his own creation. He went to his room and grabbed his guitar, carefully tuning it as he sat at the edge of his bed. Mindlessly plucking at the strings for a while, he eventually found a melody that embraced the gloom he was carrying around, and before he knew it, it started leading a life of its own.

Rogue wasn’t sure what made him decide to grab his phone and record the song he had composed on a whim, or why he felt the sudden urge to provide it with a set of lyrics. He had written songs for Phantom Lord before, but always in collaboration with Gajeel. This was all his own doing, a solo-project born from the emotions he had refused to fully surrender to.

But now he had opened the hatch and everything came pouring out like a rainstorm, as memories and sentiments were taking the shape of words hastily scribbled onto a piece of paper.

And surrender he did.

 _Even now, I still hear your voice  
_ _Even now, I still feel your touch  
_ _And today I lived within traces of you_

 _Even now, I still see you  
_ _Even now, I still feel your warmth  
_ _And today I lived within your time_

 _In the shape of a stranger passing by on the street,  
_ _In the desolate dance of the fall leaves playing in the wind  
_ _Even in the evening air that grazes my cheek  
_ _In everything I see, hear and feel  
_ _You’re there_

 _So how about you, how about you?  
_ _Are you feeling the same?  
_ _How about you?_

 _At the empty chair, discarded by the roadside  
_ _In the glass of water I thoughtlessly raise to my lips  
_ _Even in the mirror I face to see myself  
_ _Even in the gentle music that sits in my ear  
_ _You’re there_

 _What do I do now, what do I do now?_  
_You must have erased me  
_ _So what do we do now?_

Rogue put his pen down and stared at the words that had just flowed out and onto the paper, playing back the recording to let the sounds of his guitar merge with them inside his head. The last notes had yet to die out when he crumpled up the paper and tossed it across his room, and the pen right after it. Not because it wasn’t good enough- it might just be the best song he had ever written- but because it was way more than what he was willing to share with anyone. This was just too personal, and upon realizing what he had just tapped into, Rogue was faced with the sad truth.

He wasn’t moving on at all.

Instead, he had been walking around in memories, unable to let go of what could have been but wasn’t meant to be.

But enough was enough, so he made a radical decision. In a sudden fit of resentment, he tossed the guitar onto his bed and stormed out of the room. He found an empty box in the laundry room that he took with him under one arm as he went through the house and filled it with everything Sting had left behind.

A pair of sunglasses from the kitchen’s clutter drawer, a winter scarf from the hallway closet, the bottle of shampoo from the bathroom, a comic book that had fallen behind the bed, and one lost sock that Rogue had kept in his sock drawer for no rationally explainable reason.

All that was left as a tangible reminder of his presence in Rogue’s life was a slew of pictures and text messages on his phone, and that was up last to be removed. Rogue dumped the box on the floor and picked up the phone from his bed, where he had left it after replaying the song he had recorded. Since the application was still open, it was the first thing to go, deleted without being given a second thought.

The pictures were up next, but there were so many of them, and as Rogue selected them one by one he was taken back to the times when those pictures were taken.

_Delete selected items?_

Rogue's thumb hovered above the screen in a few moments of hesitation, because although these pictures were painful to look at now, they were also keepsakes from precious moments. But before he could make a decision, another screen popped up that made him hold his breath.

_Incoming call: Sting Eucliffe_

Rogue stared at the screen unsure of what to do. Perhaps this was the sign he’d been waiting for. His chance to make a clean break of it all. All he had to do was tell Sting that they needed to just stop. Talking, texting, all of it.

The ringtone he’d chosen for Sting as a joke rang in his ears, reminding him of yet another moment they’d shared. He was going to do it. He took one deep shaky breath, bolstering himself for the conversation that was bound to be uncomfortable. He swiped his finger to accept the call.

"Hey."

"Hey…uhm, is this a bad time?"

Rogue had to bite back a _'You have no idea'_ , but he managed to keep himself in check and act like nothing was wrong.

"No, it's fine."

"Okay…so, how's your day?"

Rogue looked at the box that lay at his feet and almost laughed, "About the same as usual.”

Even through the awkwardness in Sting’s words, Rogue could sense something was up and despite his intentions, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Right, uhm so listen, I can’t talk long but I wanted to ask you something.”

Rogue’s heart began to beat faster as he detected the underlying excitement in Sting’s voice. “Ask?”

“Yeah, my parents want to know if you’d like to spend the holidays with us, you know, visit Edolas over break.”

“They do?” Rogue felt like an idiot, but he was so surprised by the turn the conversation had taken that he couldn’t seem to put any words together.

“They wanted to thank you for everything you did for me when I was over there, and well you know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” Sting chuckled nervously.

Rogue stared at the wall in disbelief. Visit over the holidays? And that last bit, it almost sounded like Sting missed him too. He looked down at the box again, frowning as he tapped it with his foot.

He listened absently as Sting continue to babble on with his usual exuberance about the things they could do and how fun it would be, all of his previous awkwardness disappearing as he described places Rogue had never heard of, and people he’d never met.

“So, uhm, what do you think?”

Rogue blinked at the question, not sure of how long Sting had been waiting for him to respond.

“I’d have to speak to my parents about it first,” Rogue lied, cursing himself, knowing Sting would immediately recognize it for what it was. But what choice did he have, five minutes ago he’d been considering cutting all ties and now he was being invited to visit? He couldn’t really process this right now.

He hated the disappointment he heard in Sting’s voice when he responded, “Oh, alright. That makes sense I guess. Give me a call when you know so I can tell my parents whether to buy a ticket or not.”

“Sting?” Rogue wanted to say something that would somehow save this conversation from the disaster it had become but he was still too conflicted so all he could manage was, “Thank you for the invite. I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay, I look forward to it,” Sting replied, sounding awkward once again, and Rogue recognized the switch to more formal language for what it was. He may not have spoken the words he’d meant to say at the beginning of the conversation, but the message had gotten through regardless.

As the call ended Rogue couldn’t help but feel the house closing in on him again. He grabbed the scarf from the box, running the fabric through his fingers, wanting to touch something that made him feel closer to Sting.

He wrapped it around his neck thinking about the upcoming holidays, and how he would be alone once again. Last year there had been no tree, no big Christmas dinner, no singing carols, and no skating in their backyard pond which had fallen into disrepair after his parents had left. Nothing but Rogue, and Netflix.

But he didn’t have to do that again, not if he didn’t want to. This year he had a choice. The question was, should he take it?

He knew what he _should_ choose, but listening to Sting’s voice had cinched it for him. He wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. And if he chose to visit, maybe they could find a way to make things work despite the distance that would be between them again once it was time for him to return home.

With that thought in mind, he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, tossing it back into the box. From the corner of his eye, he could see the crumpled up sheet of paper. He picked it up and smoothed out the creases to his best ability before folding it twice and adding it to the box. Instead of dumping all its contents in the trash like he had planned to do, he walked over to his open closet, finding a spot on one of his shelves to plop it on. Likewise, he refrained from deleting the pictures on his phone. He would hold off for a little while, and after he returned from his visit he would make his final decision.

Remembering that Sting had said he couldn’t talk for long, Rogue brought up the messaging app on his phone.

_I’d love to_

He chuckled at the almost immediate response full of so many emojis, it made him worry for Sting’s sanity. And with something to look forward to he found the house no longer felt so empty.

**Author's Note:**

> (PS, by DivineBurrito: ) I love this band and this is one of the first songs from them I fell in love with, but I can recommend their other work as well!  
> Thank you for reading!


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